Eliana’s POV

  She hadn’t planned to stay behind.

  Eva had gone to see her boyfriend, Leonardo, and Eliana had said she’d wait outside. She didn’t explain why — maybe because she didn’t fully know. Part of it was the noise. The crowd spilling out. The weight still sitting in her chest.

  She needed air.

  Not to think about him.

  Just… to think.

  But when she saw him walking across the lot, hoodie up, steps slower than before — something in her stilled.

  Hamari.

  He didn’t see her at first. His gaze was low, shoulder hunched slightly under the fabric. Like he was still holding the pain tight to his chest, not ready to set it down.

  When he looked up and their eyes met, something unreadable flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. Or something he wasn’t used to letting anyone see.

  She stood straighter, adjusting the edge of her dress as the breeze caught it.

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  No smile. No wave.

  Just held his gaze a second longer than she meant to.

  He paused.

  Then walked over.

  He stopped a few feet away — not too close, not too far. Like he didn’t want to invade her space. Like he didn’t trust his own.

  “You stayed,” he said.

  His voice was lower now. Worn, but steady.

  “I just needed some air,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Didn’t feel like talking.”

  He gave a small nod. “Yeah. Me either.”

  Silence settled between them, but it didn’t press.

  It hovered. Like fog that didn’t want to leave.

  “I saw you,” he said after a beat. “During the game.”

  She raised a brow. “I wasn’t exactly front row.”

  “You were watching,” he said. “You noticed things.”

  His tone wasn’t accusing. Just certain.

  She met his eyes. “So did you.”

  That seemed to catch him off guard — but not in a bad way.

  Like no one had ever said it back to him before.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, more curious than cautious.

  He didn’t answer right away. Just looked out toward the edge of the lot, like the words were somewhere in the dark.

  “Not really.”

  He said it like it wasn’t meant to be dramatic. Just true.

  She nodded. “Figured.”

  A pause.

  “I didn’t mean to call your name,” she said, then quickly added — “It just… came out.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  Their eyes met again.

  Longer this time.

  No confessions. No sparks flying.

  Just the tension of two people suddenly aware of how close they were —

  and how quiet everything else had become.

  A breath passed between them. Shared without trying.

  And in the space where words could’ve ruined it, they both stayed still.

  Not needing to fill it.

  Not yet.